Blanche Ingram Ponders
by Mikha
Summary: Blanche Ingram ponders on some events from Jane Eyre towards the middle and end of the book.


Hello this is a story marking some of Blanche Ingram's thoughts at key events in Jane Eyre. I've tried to stick to the language as much as I can.

Jane Eyre belongs to Charlotte Brontë, God rest her soul.

EDIT: I realised that the separations for each segment didn't show, so I've done them again. I hope this clears it up!

If only Mama understood. If I could but express to her the reality of the situation in words she could comprehend. She does believe what I say is true. She insists I should go back and retake my words. But I cannot.

I cannot, and I will not.

My refusal of Mr. Rochester is definitive, whatever Mama may think.

She does not know. She does not know that Rochester's supposed twenty thousand a year are nothing but fiction. Aye, I had been warned by that gypsy woman that things were not as they seemed, and Rochester himself confirmed it just as he offered me his hand.

Oh, how I abhor that moment! So close to what I most desired, and yet… what I thought to be a perfect station was nothing but a lie… Rochester is not rich. He is not worth what is believed. And God help me if I should take a man like him for less than fifteen thousand pounds! No, it will not be borne. It shall not. I'd rather spend my life a spinster, which I surely will not, than accept such a man as him without a fortune. His manner is strange, handsome, he is not, and his attention for that pitiful governess is quite frustrating. Surely he should know that a governess deserves no notice, no care… and that, he renders too much unto her.

No. No matter what Mama says, how much she encourages me to renew communication with him, I shall not do it. I shall find a man worthy of an Ingram wife, nay, worthy of myself! And Rochester is not that man. He will not be unless his fortune changes, but by the time that happens, it may be too late. He is nearly forty, and I do not wish to deal with an old man for so little money. No, I shall be satisfied ere I marry!

Besides, marrying him would mean dealing with that obnoxious French child, and that, I most certainly will not. Had he proposed to me favourably, I'd have made sure that girl was packed up to school before I entered Thornfield. And that governess right behind her.

x-x-x

I confess the news has shocked me. It was Mary who brought it in at breakfast. Surely she heard it from one of the servants, who, in turn, heard it from some servant or other from Thornfield. I cannot believe it. I simply cannot.

I would fain believe Mary herself would marry a servant than this.

Mr. Rochester engaged to that governess… Mama is besides herself with anguish. Deluded as she is, she still hoped a proposal from Rochester might come for me. She hoped in vain, I always knew, but not because of this.

How could he? How dare he renounce his social circles by marrying… _her_? Surely, he has gone mad, for there is no other explanation for so rash a decision. Surely…

Clearly, he is a man who has never deserved my affections. No man who could look at a governess for a wife is worthy of me. If anyone should ask, I shall not know him. I shall deny any acquaintance! Although I doubt any good society will mention his name ever again.

Not even Mr. Eshton could consider Rochester an interesting case, for, surely, this is a case of madness.

x-x-x

I feel a perverse satisfaction, I own to myself. Yes, Rochester's marriage did not take place. Ha! He who dared court me with a promise of a non-existent fortune is now paying the price for his wickedness!

I, of course, consider myself extremely fortunate to have escaped not only a life of poverty, but one of deceit as well. I knew something was amiss in that hall… that terribly cry we heard in the night was not natural. The strange rappings at the door were not natural… To think we could have been killed!

Mama now fully sees how such a match would have been our ruin. She fears that, as no one in our acquaintance was aware of this infamy, no one would have stopped me from marrying him had I accepted him. She thinks it fortunate that governess had someone to care enough to save her.

I myself do not care for her, but I do feel this satisfaction over their failed attempt at marriage. More so, I relish in her suffering at discovering such a dark secret in him. Serves her right for being a meddlesome, troublesome creature.

Ha! A wife! A lunatic wife at that! The stars have turned their back on you, Rochester. You, who dared deceive me, are now paying for it.

May your wicked wife plague you for the rest of your days!

x-x-x

I do not comprehend Mama nor Mary. I do not see why they see the need to visit him, wretched as he is. The universe has completed its vengeance! He is crippled and blind. He has lost his magnificent hall, which he obviously had little money to sustain anyway, to smoke and fire, and he has lost himself.

Most of all, I relish in the fact that even though he is now rid of his lunatic wife, and would be free to marry whomever he pleased, that governess is nowhere to be found. May she remain so!

How tragic the events at Thornfield! They all say… They also say how fortunate it was that Rochester got everyone out of their beds and out the door before the roof collapsed, and what a pity it was that he should not have come out unscathed. I say it serves him right. May he never recover his sight, and may he die a miserable old man while I lead a happy life next to a rich husband. One shall be found soon, I am sure. I shall not settle like Mary seems to have.

Not me. Not Blanche Ingram.

x-x-x

I shall not have peace, it seems. Why has the universe deserted me? Why have the stars turned their back on me, yet seem to favour him who did me so much wrong?

Mama has heard it from the servants. The governess is back, an heiress! Surely five thousand pounds are not very much, but it brings rage to my heart to even think her having more than I do. And rumour has it she was left as much as twenty thousand, but she divided it equally among her cousins. She who had nothing… she who _was_ nothing… It is not fair.

It is not fair that she's come back and married Rochester. It is not fair that they should be happy despite his crippleness and blindness, while I sit here and near my twenty-seventh year without a husband and without prospects. I cannot bear it. I shall go to London and marry, it is the only way.

I shall not permit a lowly governess to have more than I, to be happy than I am!

They are not worthy of my thoughts. They are not worthy of my worry.

x-x-x

A child. And one he can see at that. I see now that the universe has really deserted me, and that no hope is to be had for me. Six seasons in London and no suitors for me came. Mary is married, Theodore is married… and yet, I remain.

I daresay Mama considers me a spinster by now.

But I have not given up. I shall become better financially than the Rochesters, for surely, mentally, I already am. The fact that they've had a child and seem to be a happy family will mean nothing to me. They will not conquer me.

I am better than they are. I am superior, and I shall be satisfied!

And that's it Thanks for reading.

I depart from the notion that Blanche, despite her ambitions, never married. Her cold heart just had no place for love.


End file.
